


Paying Attention

by Marie_Tomas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Arguing, Bottom Dean, Developing Relationship, Jealous Dean Winchester, M/M, Possessive Dean Winchester, Possessive Sam Winchester, Sexual Content, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 04:03:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2637299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Tomas/pseuds/Marie_Tomas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets jealous of every guy who flirts with Sam. After Sam spends an evening talking to one of his old college buddies instead of Dean, Dean has a 'chick flick' moment and accuses Sam of not paying enough attention to him. Sam proves Dean wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paying Attention

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as a kind of follow up to my previous story, 'Like a King', or it can be read as a standalone.

"God dammit, Sam, I just want you to pay attention!"

The second the sentence left his lips, Dean put his hand over his mouth, as though the action could take back his words, as though it could take back their whole argument, and he felt his eyes widen in shock.

He glanced at Sam, who was staring at Dean from the other side of their motel room. He looked equally shocked, with his own eyes wide and his mouth open, apparently too taken aback by Dean's words to continue arguing, even though he still looked kind of mad at Dean.

Annoyingly, Dean started to blush.  _Why_ did he have to go and say a thing like that? It was such a… _chick_  thing to say. His mind conjured up images of a bored housewife, yelling at her husband because she felt like he was ignoring her; maybe because he was working too many hours, or he spent too much time with his buddies, or he didn't take her out to dinner enough, or in Sam's case, if he spent the evening at a bar after a hunt laughing and drinking with one of his old college buddies who he happened to run into by coincidence, instead of spending the evening getting drunk with Dean, who had dragged Sam to the bar in the first place.

Except Sam wasn't his husband. Dean wasn't even sure  _what_ they were now, now that they had started asking for king-sized beds instead of two queens, now that their hunts concluded with sex in the Impala or in their motel room, or sometimes against bathroom walls at bars, if they were drunk enough.

At times it was fast and desperate, the two of them riding out the adrenaline of their hunts; at other times it was slow and tender, with a lot of making out and intense glances, like they were trying to remind each other that they were still here, still in this together.

Outside of their motel rooms, Dean didn't think that it  _looked_  like anything had changed between the two of them, but sometimes he felt like they might as well have put up a neon sign stating that they were now fucking, because it seemed like every single dude had worked out that Sam might be into guys now.

The way Dean saw it, the men practically gravitated towards Sam every time they went out for drinks, smirking at him and winking at him and 'discreetly' brushing their hands across his arms or his thighs and driving Dean crazy.

In his few past relationships, and his many one-night stands, Dean had never been very possessive, but with Sam, every nod or wink at his little brother from another guy actually made him feel like he could hit anyone who even attempted to take Sammy away from him (even though Sam always insisted that it was all in Dean's imagination every time they had this argument about other guys); especially tonight, after he had endured what felt like hours of Sam's friend laughing and joking with his younger brother, placing a hand on his arm, a hand on his back, and worse of all, running his hand affectionately through Sam's hair when they started to get really drunk and friendly.

At first, Dean had tried to numb the pain and forget all about it by drinking beer after beer, but as soon as Sam's college buddy ran a hand through Sam's hair, something in Dean snapped, and he had walked purposefully over to Sam on the other side of the room, interrupting the 'friendly' conversation so that he could yell at his brother.

Sam had practically dragged Dean out of the bar, yelling something about how Dean had ruined the night, while Dean accused his younger brother of ignoring him.

They had argued all the way back to the motel, with Dean quickly sobering up once they started fighting, and the shouting only got louder the second Sam slammed the motel room door behind them, right up to the moment when Dean told Sam that he wanted him to pay attention.

Dean was dragged back into the present when he realised that Sam hadn't actually said anything for at least a couple of minutes, and there was a tense silence in the room while they stared at each other, their breathing uneven.

" _Dean_?" Sam eventually asked him, slowly, quietly, now sounding more disappointed than angry. "You  _seriously_ think that I don't pay attention?"

Dean instantly felt a rush of guilt. He knew that he was being kind of unfair, getting mad at Sam for letting another guy flirt with him. It wasn't as though they had talked about what was going on between the two of them; Dean hated discussions like that, and he wasn't sure if he could cope if Sam suddenly wanted a long, heartfelt, chick-flick-like conversation involving tears and hugs and promises.

They hadn't reached any agreements about being exclusive, or not flirting with anyone else, or only ever being with each other from now on. But before Dean could think of an answer to Sam's question, or tell Sam to forget about it, or play it off by making some kind of joke about housewives, his younger brother was walking purposefully across the motel room towards Dean, with a sigh of exasperation and a determined look in his eyes that Dean hardly ever saw now.

He knew that look really well-it was the look that crossed Sam's face when he was a teenager and he was angry about their upbringing and starting to rebel against their dad's authority. It was also the look that Dean saw moments before they shared their first kiss on the night when they finally asked for a king-sized bed instead of two queens and Dean knew that things were about to change between them.

Dean briefly wondered if Sam was going to hit him, but then his brother was right up in his space, grabbing tight hold of Dean, pulling him even closer towards the warmth that was Sam, and, after Dean took a few seconds to stare at Sam in wide-eyed surprise, their lips were crashing together.

Dean might have kissed back, might have opened his mouth to give Sam better access, but there was no doubt that Sam was totally in control of their kiss, roughly grabbing Dean's hair and tilting Dean's head slightly so that the angle was better, setting the pace, setting the speed, biting Dean's bottom lip just the way Dean liked, holding him tight, letting Dean lean on him.

" _You like it when I kiss you like this."_

Dean jumped a little when Sam whispered the words against his lips. There wasn't usually any time for talking once they started this, so it kind of took Dean by surprise. He tried to think about the reason why Sam had decided to give a running commentary, but then Sam was getting all up close and personal with him again, quickly removing Dean's leather jacket and continuing with his talking, and, as usual, Dean's thoughts were too wrapped up in Sam to be able to think about anything logically.

" _You love it when the kisses are fast and frantic, especially after we've been hunting or fighting."_

Then Sam moved forward, pushing against Dean, and Dean felt himself being backed up in the direction of their king-sized bed. He could feel the goose bumps on his skin, half-hard already as he thought about how hot it was that Sam had the strength to do this, to take control and push and pull until he'd moved and manipulated Dean into whatever position he wanted. Not that he would ever tell Sam that-

" _You get all tingly when I take control like this."_

Dammit, apparently Sam already knew. Dean was about to say something in protest of this comment, but then he felt a jolt in his legs as he was backed up against the bed, and he just managed to toe off his boots before Sam pushed him down firmly onto the mattress, using only one hand.

In a matter of seconds, Sam was on top of him, kissing Dean just the way he liked again, before he moved away slightly and took off Dean's t-shirt before Dean had even caught his breath, almost tearing the fabric to shreds.

It was a sharp contrast to when they first started doing this, back when Sam was shaking with nerves and Dean felt every protective older brother instinct kick in as he took control, undressed Sam slowly, kissed him gently and promised him that he would take care of him. They still did that, sometimes, easily falling into their confident-older-brother and vulnerable-younger-brother routine whenever Sam needed it; but now, after a little practice together, Dean also loved this confident, possessive side to Sam in the bedroom. He had never thought that it would be such a turn on, being dominated by somebody else, but Sam had already proved him wrong over and over.

" _You enjoy it when I take charge."_

Dean couldn't even bring himself to argue anymore. He reached up so that he could return the favour and remove Sam's shirt, but Sam put his hand on Dean's chest to stop him, with that look back in his eyes that told Dean that he had to do what he was told, at least for now. If it had been anybody else, Dean wouldn't have been so cooperative, but with Sam, it was somehow the hottest thing ever to be ordered around.

Sam took Dean's hands in his and then Dean felt his arms being pinned firmly above his head. After a couple of seconds, Sam let go of his hands so that he could take off his own shirt, but Dean understood the silent instruction-he had to keep his hands there; he had to imagine that there were invisible ropes holding him still so that Sam could be fully in charge.

As much as Dean secretly fantasised about using bondage in the bedroom, in reality, he found the idea of it kind of terrifying, especially after all the hunts that had ended up with him being tied down, at the mercy of whatever demon they happened to be fighting, totally dependent on Sam being able to rescue him on time. It was difficult, to separate the claustrophobic reality of bondage from the bedroom fantasy, and he knew that Sam would never use real ropes or ties until Dean asked him to, yet he also knew that if he was going to try it for real, then Sam would be the only person who he would allow to work the ropes.

" _I'm the only person who you would really trust to tie you up. You think it's kind of hot-the idea of your younger brother having total control like that."_

Dean couldn't stop the moan that left his lips at the thought of it. He determinedly kept his hands above his head, trying to be good, silently showing Sam just how much he liked being at his mercy, almost forgetting about why they were even fighting in the first place, and Sam went back to kissing him on the lips.

Eventually, he felt Sam's lips move along to a sensitive spot on his jawline.  _"You're sensitive here."_

Next, he tilted Dean's head to the side so that he could kiss a sensitive spot behind Dean's ear. Dean hadn't even realised that anybody knew about that spot, but- _"You're really sensitive here, too."_

It was like Sam could read his every thought, like he could read Dean's body better than Dean could.

Sam placed a few kisses on Dean's forehead, and on the palms of his hands, and even his biceps, before he moved down to Dean's neck, finding every sensitive spot, but applying more pressure this time. Dean was about to complain that Sam was going to leave a mark or a bruise, but then the thought suddenly occurred to him that it wouldn't exactly be a bad thing if he did.

" _You want me to leave marks all over your skin, so that everyone knows what we're doing-so that everyone knows that you're mine."_

Dean felt a shudder run through his body at Sam's words. As possessive as he could be with Sam, he also secretly liked the idea of being Sam's. Just Sam's.

" _Mine,"_  Sam muttered against Dean's neck, apparently working out which word Dean liked best.  _"Mine."_

Dean felt Sam move further down Dean's body to his nipples. He knew that Sam's were really sensitive, but Dean always needed a little more than just the light pressure of a tongue for it to really feel good-

"Sammy!" he couldn't help crying out, arching his hips upwards when Sam used his teeth as well as tongue before using his fingers to rub and pinch.

" _You like a little extra pressure here."_

It sounded like the understatement of the century, and Dean really wanted to ask Sam how he knew about all this, how he had worked out what made Dean feel good from the short time that they'd been having sex, but he kept quiet, apart from the occasional moan and gasp, keeping his hands still and hoping that Sam would move even further down soon.

Sam started to leave a trail of kisses down Dean's ribs and all over his torso, hitting every receptive spot on the way down.  _"Sensitive here. And here."_

He ran his fingers lightly over Dean's sensitive hips and Dean fought back a smile.  _"You're really ticklish here, even though you'd never admit it. And you kind of like it when I tickle you."_

He pushed his tongue into Dean's belly button, hitting another spot that Dean hadn't even known Sam was aware of.  _"Sensitive here, too."_

Finally, Sam undid the zipper of Dean's jeans, removing Dean's pants and underwear so that he was fully naked, fully on display for Sam.

"Come on, Sam, please," Dean whispered, not above begging now that he was achingly hard and Sam was just  _looking_ at him and Dean couldn't even move his hands downwards to touch himself because Sam had silently told him to keep his hands above his head.

" _You love it when I make you beg for it."_

There was a definite hint of amusement now in Sam's tone of voice, and Dean really wanted to disagree or at least glare at Sam, but he found himself unable to think straight for long enough to form a coherent response, especially when his dick was suddenly in Sam's hand, and that same hand started moving up and down, agonizingly slow, the sensation feeling good, amazing, but not being  _enough_ , driving Dean crazy but also making him want more of it, wanting it to last.

" _It gets you hot when I tease you; when I take you right to the edge and back again."_

"Bitch," Dean growled as he thrust his hips upwards, desperately trying to create more friction.

" _Jerk,"_ Sam whispered in response, that smug look back on his face.

It was almost embarrassing sometimes, that Sam could get him so hard so quickly, could make him moan and gasp and beg with just the lightest of touches, but Dean loved it. And he hated all of the anonymous guys who flirted with Sam, who wanted Sam to do this to them.

Just when Dean was on the brink of orgasm, Sam abruptly stopped his expert hand movements and let go of Dean's dick. Dean had known that he would do it, but it didn't stop him from groaning in frustration.

He felt Sam shift so that he could move even further down Dean's body, using his tongue and his fingers to point out all of the other sensitive spots that he apparently knew about, from Dean's inner thighs to the backs of his knees and even his toes and the soles of his feet. Then he was moving back up, showing Dean all over again that he knew just where to touch and lick on Dean's lower body to make him moan in appreciation, until, thankfully, his hand was back where Dean wanted it to be, rubbing and moving up and down more firmly this time, giving him one of the best hand jobs he'd ever received.

Sam took him right to the edge all over again, before he stopped and moved away a little, letting go of Dean's dick.

This time, Dean let out an even louder yell of frustration, trying to drown out Sam's self-satisfied comment of,  _"You_ really _like it when I tease you; don't even try to deny it, Dean."_

Dean was now so hard and desperate that he wasn't even paying attention to his surroundings, but he was vaguely aware of Sam leaning over him, reaching in the direction of the bedside drawer and grabbing hold of what looked a lot like lube and a condom.

He only started to become slightly more aware of what was going on when Sam removed his own jeans and underwear, allowing Dean a glorious view of his naked body, letting Dean see that he was just as hard, just as turned on.

Every time he saw Sam like this, it was like the first time all over again; it was as though he couldn't get enough of him, couldn't stop staring, taking him all in, appreciating the strong body and the muscles, feeling a mixture of nerves at the unfamiliarity of being with a guy and a strange sense of reassurance at how natural it felt to do this with Sam, wondering all over again why he hadn't realised just how perfect this all was years ago instead of trying to flirt with every hot waitress he met, seeking out empty and meaningless sex when he and Sam could have been doing this all along, when Sam really shouldn't be doing this with anybody else. Ever.

" _You think I'm hot,"_  Sam whispered with a grin.

Dean wanted to say something sarcastic in return, but it was so much easier to just stay pliant and silent as Sam lifted his hips, used his fingers to prepare him, fumbled with the condom and aligned their bodies. At least, that's what Dean thought he was doing. It was getting harder and harder to focus on the details and the order of events.

Then he was pushing inside Dean, moving slowly at first, like Dean was so delicate that Sam had to be gentle with him, but as soon as Dean started to get impatient, he gradually moved faster and faster, thrusting into him hard and fast, possessively, making Dean gasp and moan.

Sam held his right hand firmly in Dean's, like he needed something to steady himself, something to remind him that this was them, that this was real.  _"You know that we fit so perfectly together, and you don't get why we didn't work that out sooner."_

Dean squeezed Sam's hand tight in return, and, deciding that Sam had already broken the rule about keeping Dean's hands still, Dean gripped Sam's hair in his other hand, loving the feeling of it running through his fingers.

" _You really like my hair."_  The tone was almost mocking now, but Dean was too far gone to care.

Sam moved even faster, gripping Dean's dick firmly in his free hand again to help Dean along.

It felt even more intimate than usual, if that was possible, with the two of them never taking their eyes off one another, holding hands, kissing, Dean gripping Sam's hair.

With every thrust, Sam whispered words in Dean's ear.  _"You love it when it's just the two of us on a motel bed. That's why you always get so jealous. Secretly, you want it to be just us, nobody else, for the rest of our lives. Brothers, friends, soul mates; you want it all. But it's too big for you, right now, too much for you to deal with. You never thought that you'd have anything like this with anyone. You're too fucking terrified to admit that this is exactly what you want. You hate having to talk about feelings. You're too scared of losing me. So instead you just get mad at every other guy who you think is a threat. But you don't have to admit anything, Dean; we don't have to have long talks or major chick-flick moments to prove that it's true, because I_ know _, Dean. I already know. I know everything about you, because I'm always watching you, trying to work out what you're thinking. Always have, ever since we were kids. I never take my eyes off you, even when I'm talking to other guys at bars. And I'm not going anywhere, not without you. I'm never leaving you again-not for a woman, definitely not for a guy. I only want you."_

With that, Dean came. Sam's name was the only word on his lips.

Sam wasn't far behind him, and then they stayed still for a few moments, with Sam remaining on top of Dean, the two of them looking deep into each other's eyes as they waited for their breathing to return to normal.

Dean knew that any second now, Sam would drop his dominant lover role and revert back to being Dean's little brother. He would move closer, put his head on Dean's shoulder, wrap an arm around Dean's waist, wait for Dean to stroke his hair, kiss his forehead, offer his words of reassurance and promise him that everything was okay. But before he did that, Dean had a feeling that he had one more thing to say.

"So," Sam whispered, his lips still so close to Dean's; "don't  _ever_ say that I don't pay attention."


End file.
